SOLDIERS of ShinRa
by Firestorm Studios
Summary: Before the glory days of Angeal, Zack and Genesis, there was Sephiroth, and a pair of 2nd rate SOLDIERS who took one final stand for ShinRa in the forgotten battle of Plateau, where AVALANCHE rose to fight. Rated T for violence. COMPLETED!
1. Drop Zone Impact

Hello! Firestorm Studios here (you may know me if you go to the Kingdom Hearts area) with a story about Final Fantasy VII. This story is meant to take place just before Crisis Core. This story will have three chapters, so enjoy Chapter 1, and PLEASE leave reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, or any of its characters, settings or properties. They all belong to Square-Enix. And that goes for every chapter in this story.

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Firestorm Studios presents a Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction

SOLDIERS of Shin-Ra

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Chapter 1 – Drop Zone Impact

Location: Over a canyon en route to a Shin-Ra military city called Plateau, 200 Kilometres South-East of Junon.

Time: 20:00

The three Shin-Ra assault helicopters cut swathes of noise and light over the canyon below, tearing the usual night-time peace asunder. The noise of crackling over the radio in the cockpit irritated the annoyed SOLDIER in the back even further than he currently was. The SOLDIER, with his enormous black trenchcoat and silver hair reaching down past his back, was annoyed. Two days, they told him. Two days and you can come back, not caring about the futile struggles of a doomed resistance group. It was two days that Sephiroth would rather spend practicing or just reciting poetry with Angeal and Genesis. But instead he was called to help out the military to put down a resistance effort by a couple of townspeople with guns. Honestly, you'd think the military could handle it.

Sephiroth's thoughts were cut short by a noise over the radio: "Drop in 3 minutes – all troops, get ready and good luck." Sephiroth smiled, sniffing the anticipation of combat all around him. As if he needed good luck. He picked up his Masamune, and to the shock of his troops, jumped out of the back of the helicopter.

The wind greeted him, sending his long silver hair flying upwards. "This is Sephiroth, commencing jump." He said into the microphone mounted on his ear.

He very quickly got a reply. "Sephiroth, you were not authorized to commence jump – intelligence reports tell us that enemy forces are almost 3 minutes away by helicopter." The SOLDIER smirked, although they couldn't see it.

"The enemy has moved to underneath my current position." Sephiroth said, preparing his Masamune.

"How do you know?" Came the reply.

Sephiroth swung his sword at the yellow lights coming fast his way, and two clanks of metal-on-metal, and two sparks of the bullets being blocked. "I know because they're firing at me. Make all troops turn back to my position and jump. I'll clear the drop zone." Several more of the bullets came his way. He did the calculations quickly in his head – only a few of them posed a threat. Sephiroth held his blade defensively in front of him, blocking the bullets as they came. Suddenly Sephiroth disappeared. God he loved that Invisible Materia trick.

Down on the ground, someone yelled out, "Cease fire. He's not there. We must have got him." Luckily, none of the enemy noticed the slight tapping noise as he touched down flawlessly.

The enemies lowered their rifles, and Sephiroth had to marvel at their stealth. Sephiroth quickly and silently ran over to their 4 high powered turrets – those monstrosities could destroy Shin-Ra headquarters if they tried. There was a single guard managing each turret. Sephiroth would have to make a little noise here, but the guard was drinking a coffee, clearly not doing his job properly. Sephiroth smirked and dropped his camouflage.

"What the-" The guard managed to say, before Sephiroth silenced him with his sword. Sephiroth laid the body down silently, and jumped onto the cannon, about the size of a rather large house. Sephiroth stuck his Masamune into the barrel's wall, and ran up its almost vertical length easily, jumping off as he pulled his sword out. Just as he touched down, the earth lifted for a second, and the cannon exploded in a ball of green fire, sending burning and sharp fragments everywhere. A chorus of screams arose from the rest of the convoy.

"_So,"_ Sephiroth thought, _"They were using mako cannons…"_ The fire swallowed the cannon behind it, creating a second fiery explosion, raising old screams and creating new ones. Sephiroth quickly pulled out a Materia from a pouch on his belt, as enraged enemies ran towards him, guns blazing. Sephiroth pushed the Materia into his arm until it became a glow inside his arm. "BAHAMUT!" Sephiroth yelled, and the dragon rose up before Sephiroth, breathing a great stream of fire. It vaporised the men running toward them, and turned its focus on the third cannon.

The cannon exploded with amazing force, sending burning equipment flying everywhere. A truck flew at Sephiroth, who jumped at it and sliced it in half with the Masamune. The dragon recoiled at the burning debris, and began shooting its fiery beam in every direction, destroying vehicle after vehicle, disintegrating man after man in the billion-degree heats. Suddenly, a massive green beam shot out of the 4th cannon, colliding and impaling Bahamut, which fizzled back into the black energy that had summoned it. The cannon turned in his direction. It fired again, a colossal green beam of mako, straight at him. At the last second, Sephiroth put back on his Invisible Materia and jumped. He slashed his sword into mid-air, sending a great blue blade of air toward the cannon – it impacted with a grinding noise, and the cannon chopped in half where the blade of air had impacted. One final green explosion took place, shaking the earth for a last time. When the rumbling and heat had passed, Sephiroth looked up over the scorched battlefield, with dead bodies and destroyed equipment scattered about, the air thick with green smoke. His invisibility faded out and the Materia vanished from his arm.

Suddenly, the smoke was torn open by bullets – most of them missed, and he swung his Masamune to block a bullet, but then a single bullet, too fast, easily pierced his coat and hit him in the chest. Sephiroth gasped in pain, holding his chest. The soldiers descended warily through the smoke. Sephiroth swallowed down his pain and leapt at them, jumping out of the smoke and slashing dead the first soldier. The other soldiers shot at him, but he managed to block the shots and swung, killing them all with a single air blade. Then Sephiroth dropped, clutching his chest. He looked at his right hand, covered in his blood. His Masamune dropped from his left hand. He managed to put it up to his ear. "Drop zone… Clear." He breathed into the earpiece. He held his chest, just concentrating on breathing. He heard the loud choppers coming from above, and Shin-Ra troops dropping down to the ground on lines.

The Sergeant, dressed in a red uniform rather than a blue, came over to him. "Commander Sephiroth, you're hurt."

Sephiroth nodded. "I just need a bit – it's a wound all right. It won't affect my combat, but I do need a night to heal. The mako in my veins will fix it up."

The good Sarge nodded. "Leave this to us, sir. We'll search for any survivors amongst the resistance forces." Sephiroth nodded his approval.

Then, a Shin-Ra grunt burst in. "Commander! Sir Sephiroth! We have a survivor!" Sephiroth didn't say anything, just went off to find a suitable place to lean against and sleep.

A bunch of grunts brought the prisoner up – he was dark-skinned and very well built, wearing a military outfit and appeared to have a gatling gun for a right arm. "Name's Barret Wallace." He said.

"Shut up, prisoner!" A grunt yelled.

"Enough!" The Sergeant yelled at the grunt. "Simmons, would you please take this man over to one of the helicopters for some food and a medical check-up?" The grunt named Simmons nodded and took 3 guards, all guns trained on Barret. The commander watched them until they faded from view, and then ordered the remaining troops to set up a six tents for everyone.

"Oh, and by the way," Sephiroth's cold voice rang out from a wall not far away, "We're meeting up with the forces in Plateau tomorrow? I must heal for that. I hear the commander over there is a SOLDIER."

The commander flipped over his notes. "Yes sir, that is correct. His name is Firestorm, SOLDIER 2nd Class."

Sephiroth smiled in anticipation. "Firestorm…" He repeated to himself.


	2. SOLDIER 2nd Class

Thanks for the response to Chapter 1, everyone!

SOLDIERS of Shin-Ra  
Chapter 2 – SOLDIER 2nd Class

The sun rose over the valley, banishing the shadows from their hiding place. Sephiroth was already awake, surveying the sleeping troopers around him. Ahead, he saw the rise in the ground which signalled the start of the military town, Plateau. His insides lifted with anticipation of meeting the SOLDIER there. A few metres away, a trooper was on lookout. Sephiroth walked over to the soldier and tapped him on the shoulder. The man jumped, terrified, and then calmed when he saw Sephiroth. "Trooper, go get the others up. I want to move into Plateau." The trooper stiffened, saluted, and ran off.

Only a few minutes later, there was a massive rush. The soldiers were preparing to move, and the Commander was barking orders. "You there! Get over here! You've been reassigned. Get in the helicopter with the gear." The Shin-Ra Grunts that had been reposted responded with a mixed chorus of celebration and groaning. "Just remember our motto in the Grunts: you're worthless and you always will be!"

-a-

Up in Plateau, the 2nd-Class SOLDIER known as Firestorm narrowed his eyes and listened. He could hear a whoosh of wind to his left. Firestorm drew his sword, Larconius, from its sheath. It was relatively short. It started off thin, and curved upwards into a spike at the back, and then curved upwards again to the point.

He darted to his left – the source of the sound. He lashed out with his sword, the victim of his slash made a gagging noise, and dropped. Firestorm heard a clicking of metal – the sound of a clip being loaded into a rifle. The SOLDIER dove for cover as bullets tore the air where he had previously stood. He cautiously peeked over to where the firing had come from. Four enemy soldiers, clad in green, had their rifles trained on various spots around the area. Firestorm flicked his wrist, and the ground rose beneath them. A plate of rock shifted, and they fell into it. Firestorm lowered his wrist, and the plate fell on top of the enemies, impacting with a sickening crunch.

Another rebel, armed with a sword, charged him from behind. Firestorm swung and slashed him down, then stabbed Larconius behind him, and into the gut of another rebel. Blood poured from the wound, but Firestorm had no mercy. Suddenly 5 or 6 soldiers leapt out at him from hiding positions. That's when Firestorm sheathed Larconius, and drew from his back his special SOLDIER weapon – a massive war hammer, with a ruby down the bottom as a pommel, and at the top, an enormous, metal cudgel that angled out towards the bottom. There was a large blade sticking out the back of the rectangle, and large, blue-glowing holes decorated the front of it. On top of the rectangle was a spear-tip.

"Roar, Fist of Hephaestos!" Firestorm yelled, and stabbed the Ruby-tipped end into the ground, springing up a field of gravitational energy. The field also pulled up rocks and held them in position. The rebels froze in the air. Firestorm smirked, and swung the massive hammer. The field broke, sending rocks everywhere. They smashed into, maimed, and killed the rebels.

Three more rebels charged at Firestorm, holding swords. The SOLDIER turned to them, and when they were about five metres in front of them, he smashed the Fist of Hephaestos into the ground, and massive wave of sheer force smashed everything within a ten metre range. When Firestorm looked up from the swing, there was nothing but a smoking crater around him.

Firestorm snuck in-between the rocks, his enhanced hearing listening for any sign of movement. He couldn't see nor hear anything. Firestorm sighed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, his ears heard a whoosh, and opened his eyes to see a black-cloaked figure flying at him with a katana. He held up Fist of Hephaestos to block, and the figure simply smashed into him, then jumped back.

"Screech, Tempest!" The figure yelled, and jumped at Firestorm. The two weapons clashed again, and Firestorm realized he needed time. He stabbed his hammer into the ground, and the wall of gravity opened up, knocking the figure back. Firestorm sheathed Fist, and drew his Larconius. He charged forward with it, and his opponent ducked under the slash and swung at Firestorm's legs. Firestorm jumped to avoid and pushed off a rock. He jumped over the figure and tried to slash down with Larconius, but the Katana the figure called Tempestas blocked the slash.

Suddenly, to both parties' surprise, bullets tore through the surrounding area. Firestorm dove behind a rock and peered out to see twenty or thirty Shin-Ra soldiers charging into the rock formation, firing at the cloaked figure. The figure took to the skies, and began to retreat, but then, the world's most feared SOLDIER appeared in front of him, blocking his Katana with the much longer Masamune.

Sephiroth grinned fiercely, anticipating the challenge of a good swordfight. "Show me your strength!" He growled at the cloaked figure.

The figure brought his blade off Sephiroth's, dropped, then pushed off the ground. He pressed a speed Materia into his arm, and he sped off faster than the Shin-Ra SOLDIERS and grunts could see.

-b-

"Sir, Firestorm gave us his rations. Many times recently, he was the only one fighting." A starving trooper said to the Shin-Ra commander. All around them, The troops were receiving food from the extra that the Shin-Ra helicopters had brought. Many others of the other marines in Sephiroth's squad were questioning the ravenous troopers.

"What about Maelstrom?" the Sergeant, Gray, asked the trooper.

"Commander Maelstrom hasn't done much. He patrols our perimeter when Firestorm goes out to fight."

As the questioning continued, over near a large Shin-Ra building which sat on a cliff next to the sea, Sephiroth was speaking with Firestorm.

"So, you have two weapons – a light and a heavy." Sephiroth observed, looking at the Fist of Hephaestos on Firestorm's back, and his Larconius in the sheath on his thigh.

"What say you we practice?" Sephiroth asked, pulling out his Masamune. Firestorm drew his Larconius, and the two began clashing swords while talking casually.

"So, how did you and your troops run out of food?" Sephiroth asked, swinging at Firestorm's legs.

"It was a sabotage attempt. One of our own men poisoned all our foods except for my rations. We had to throw out everything poisoned, which was well… everything, except for my share." Firestorm responded, jumping over the slash and throwing Larconius at Sephiroth, then pulling out the Fist of Hephaestos.

"Well, it seems we have a traitor in our midst." Sephiroth said, dodging the Larconius and darting forward with the Masamune, only to be stopped by Firestorm and his massive hammer.

"But that's not the only danger. Apart from the enemy SOLDIER I fought today, there is another. She's extremely powerful – First Class, definitely." Firestorm said, managing to get a hit on Sephiroth's ribs with the ruby pommel of the Fist of Hephaestos. "It took both Maelstrom and I to fend her off on the one occasion she's appeared."

"So, let's put the pieces together." Sephiroth said, clutching his ribs with his right hand, and wielding Masamune with the other. "We've got two enemy SOLDIERS at least. One First-Class, one Second-Class. We have a traitor in our midst, who must be found and killed immediately. And finally, we must lead an assault on the rebel base." The One-Winged Angel summed up; managing to cut the edge of Firestorm's right shoulder, blood spattering a short distance across.

"In short: Yes. That's an excellent summary." Firestorm said, throwing aside the hammer of the Greek Fire-God and pulling up Larconius. Both SOLDIERS turned to see both Firestorm's and Sephiroth's troops staring at the two, talking excitedly of the contest before them.

Sephiroth took advantage of the occasion that had distracted the younger, less experienced SOLDIER, and pushed him back with a thump to the chest, then tackled Firestorm, Masamune raised. Firestorm twisted his wrist, directing his Larconius away. Sephiroth held his Masamune to the Second Class SOLDIER's throat.

"What did Commander Firestorm do wrong?" Sephiroth asked the troops.

"Uh Sir, I can't see anything wrong. In fact, you would be gravely injured if he hadn't turned his blade at the last second." The grunt named Simmons said.

"Correct. But my momentum would have carried me forward and killed him too. Just because I was struck does not mean my empty inertia cannot kill in return." Sephiroth said. "But if Firestorm here had kept his hammer…" The One-Winged Angel said, handing the Fist of Hephaestos back to its owner. "…He might have ended the fight in a different way. But he chose to abandon its overwhelming strength for speed."

Sephiroth pulled his comrade off the ground. "I'm so sorry I injured you, Commander." Firestorm apologised, sheathing sword and holstering hammer. "In other training lessons I will direct my hammer with less barbarism."

"It is unworthy of mention. An unserious injury. It will heal in minutes." Sephiroth said, walking with Firestorm back to the troops. "Besides, one can't spill blood without joining in the act." The One-Winged Angel pointed at Firestorm's shoulder wound.

Suddenly a boot crunched on the gravel. "Fire, you're injured." A younger SOLDIER said. He wore a black zip-up vest and black trousers, standard SOLDIER uniform, with blonde-brown hair and blue eyes – only one of his eyes was a quarter orange. He walked forward and bowed to Sephiroth.

"Commander Sephiroth. It's an honour to meet you. My name is Commander Maelstrom."

Sephiroth shook his hand. "I'm glad to see that the condition and health of your comrades comes first to you." He said.

"Yes sir. Thank you, Sir." Maelstrom said, then turned to Firestorm. "Fire, I need to talk to you." Maelstrom said, and grabbed the other.

"O-okay. See you later, Sephiroth!" Firestorm said, as he was dragged away.

Sephiroth waved goodbye, his eyes glaring at Maelstrom. Something wasn't right. "Sergeant Gray…" Sephiroth said to the head of his grunts. "I think I know who our traitor is…" Sephiroth said calmly, sheathing his Masamune, but keeping his eyes firmly locked on the turned backs of the two SOLDIERS.


	3. Last Blazing Moments

Time for the conclusion to SOLDIERS of Shin-Ra! I hope this 7500+ word epic will make up for the horrendous TWO-YEAR waiting time. I am SO sorry, for those who waited. And for those who waited, and are reading now, thank you SO much. Enjoy.

SOLDIERS of Shin-Ra

Chapter 3 – Last Blazing Moments

Sephiroth went over the plan for the billionth time in his head. The grunts would charge forward under cover of stealth for as long as possible, and then charge the resistance members. This would draw out the traitor – who would engage Firestorm. Firestorm would do his absolute best to subdue the opponent, but if he couldn't stop the rogue SOLDIER within a minute, Sephiroth would fly in and reveal the traitor for who he was, and then Firestorm and he would defeat and kill the traitor.

_"There are a lot of 'woulds' in that sentence… Meaning that a lot of this plan comes down to blind luck. I don't like it."_ Sephiroth thought to himself, frowning. Next to him, Firestorm hefted the Fist of Hephaestos, and checked his larconius. He seemed in high spirits, despite the fact that they were about to charge into battle – possibly against one of their own_._

Heat waves rose off the rocks and cliff faces that led out to the water beyond, sparkling orange, and distorted by the glare of the rising sun. Dawn had come, and the three SOLDIERS stood up to face it. Around them, the Shin-Ra troops prepared themselves. Rifles clicked, boots crunched on water-softened gravel, and the computer-filtered view of the troops flickered to life.

Sephiroth felt his phone buzz, and pulled it out – a jet-black, bulky machine that had been constantly upgraded, and thus had had hardware additions heaped onto its casing. On it was a single message, addressed from Angeal, back at the Shin-Ra headquarters. Following his suspicions, Sephiroth had called his friend for some technical support on two people.

_Call me on a secure line_, it said. Sephiroth dialled Angeal's number – one of the very few numbers he bothered to memorize – and was sure to engage the addition that blocked incoming signals on the line. He heard the ring. Within seconds Angeal's voice answered. "Sephiroth, I've got it."

"These two second-class guys are too similar to each other. Firestorm and Maelstrom." Sephiroth said, glancing back at the two SOLDIERS, who were talking to the various troops about tactics and manoeuvres in case the enemy should employ certain strategies.

"Well, I determined why. I was digging through an encrypted lock on Lazard's SOLDIER project files for you. When I finally unlocked the damn thing, it opened up a bunch of useless files. SOLDIER augmentations. Processes of mako infusion. Most of it has already been made public anyway." Angeal said carelessly. "However, I did a standard search for files on that lock level, and found a file labelled the STORM project. Black operations security levels."

"It detailed the construction of two SOLDIERS to be the ultimate in two-man operations. Given that SOLDIERS generally operate alone, the project was to make two SOLDIERS working on a symbiotic level – a double mentality. The results were SOLDIERS now Second-Class, who have gone their whole lives with the names Firestorm and Maelstrom." Angeal continued, and Sephiroth could clearly hear that Angeal was talking softly – this could even be classified as treason. "Both of them were deemed special cases, and the decision was passed down for them to be able to wield personal, tailored weapons - even though they're not Firsts – to maximise combat testing. However…"

"However?" Sephiroth asked, growing curious.

"There was a complication. Two different birthmothers were used, yet the mako strain used was the same to ensure mostly the same bodily structure. However, one of the birthmothers..."

Sephiroth's eyes widened in realization. "She had twins."

"Correct." Angeal growled over the line. "The unexpected one didn't react to the mako strain on the other baby. It was a girl, they named her Hazel. She also spent her life under Shin-Ra care, however her existence was kept a secret from Firestorm and Maelstrom. She was taught SOLDIER skills by a First-Class named Haerl."

Sephiroth recalled the name. Haerl had been a SOLDIER of reasonable distinction until he had faced off against well over two hundred Wutai troopers at once. He had fought valiantly – but in the end, he was cut to pieces by well-placed sniper rounds, and his body recovered by Shin-Ra forces. "I'm guessing that after Haerl died, she ran away… Remember that 'highly dangerous escaped criminal' headline a couple years ago in Midgar?"

"Exactly. I'm guessing that she's the rogue SOLDIER in charge of your little resistance problem." Angeal said. "Sephiroth, I don't know if you've heard, but Hazel took out three battalions bare-handed then completely escaped Shin-Ra territory alone. She's skilled."

"Don't worry. I have the problem under control." Sephiroth replied. "We're doing a main attack today, so I'll still be back on time tomorrow." He turned back to the base, but thought. "Angeal, one last question… Which SOLDIER shared the womb with Hazel?"

Angeal paused. "It was Maelstrom."

"Right. I'll be back tomorrow, then." After a bid goodbye, Sephiroth hung up from Angeal and trudged back to the main group. He walked up to Firestorm. "You're my second-in-command. Make sure you do well."

"Sir! Yes sir!" Firestorm exclaimed happily, the Fist of Hephaestos on his back clanking with his armour. He ran back to his base camp, rallying his troops and preparing his armour. Maelstrom stepped behind Firestorm.

"Are you ready, brother?"

-a-

Troops moved between the rocks, quiet, quick, and deadly. From where Firestorm stood, crouched on a boulder, they looked like a whirling pattern of blue, swerving and threading through the field of stones. Taking a few elegant dashes across the boulder tops, he surveyed the view. Ahead there was the base of the enemy. Off to his right, about two hundred metres down the track, there was cliff-face to the sea. Behind him was the Shin-Ra base, which connected to the deserted town Sephiroth had come through his arrival. And, finally, off to his left was another cliff face, this one stretching upwards monolithically, and would provide any onlookers standing on those prairies with a fantastic view of the battle below.

Firestorm leaped from one boulder to another, following just behind his troops – their enemy would be looking at him, not at the boulders ahead – an optimal situation for a surprise rush by his men. He looked to his left, seeing Maelstrom – having taken flight – veering off to the cliff-face, a one-man army flanking their foe. Firestorm turned back and, looking up to the sky a last time and hoping for good luck in their battle, leapt to the enemy-ridden ground mere seconds after hearing the staccato report of gunfire break out from the two sides.

Sephiroth stood atop the cliff, watching upon Firestorm's tactics. His distraction had worked perfectly, as the enemy had lost ground and was only now taking up defensive positions after suffering considerable losses. He now looked back to the front line, where the younger SOLDIER was now flailing about his hammer haphazardly, gravity distorting around wherever the enormous cudgel made its mark. His SOLDIER uniform was already stained with a few streaks of blood, but he showed no sign of weakening.

Now interested, Sephiroth looked further off toward the enemy base. If the plan was successful, Maelstrom should be there – and he was, cleaving several enemies with his great naginata, Cleave of Boreas. He swung it in wide, graceful circles – sweeping the soldiers with area-affecting strokes that allowed them no opportunity to attack. His glowing aqua-blue blade was in stark contrast to the torrents of red that erupted wherever his blade should pass.

Sephiroth dived from the cliff-top, aiming towards a large pocket of enemy men. He summoned his mighty Masamune, held it backhand and raised his arms, poised to strike beneath him - blade-first.

The impact was deafening. The blade struck a single soldier, who was dead before the blade had even entered him. The body was cleaved in half by the length of the vicious blade, and ceased to exist when the subsequent blast of Sephiroth's enormous magical strength blasted the area around them.

That very blast vaporised the troopers immediately around it and knocked out, stone cold, those slightly further out. From every other point on the battlefield, a sickening-green and black-purple mass of energy blasted outward in a shockwave, and then rose to the sky in a plume of lethal flame.

Sephiroth rose.

One last enemy soldier dared to confront Maelstrom. Before the man could so much as unholster his rifle, Maelstrom had impaled the man through at supersonic speeds. So fast was the strike that the man kept his forward dash for another second before his legs were carried skyward by the speed and force of the naginata lance. Faster than the eye could blink, Maelstrom had raised the Cleave of Boreas, completed a series of spectacular twirls, and bonded the weapon to the mako in his body – gravitating the spear to his back.

And with that, the boy turned silently and cautiously and proceeded into the enemy base.

Firestorm rested his great hammer. Not weakened, but indeed slowed. He had felled many enemy soldiers, and now the coast was clear. With a wave of his hand, the teenager called his foot soldiers ahead towards the base. To rout the enemy here would mean a complete victory; effectively toppling what this resistance could possibly achieve.

However, mid-dash, his eyes caught sight of a black mass flying its way towards him. The cloth, billowing, gave the image of a reaper – made all the more harrowing by the sunlit glint of a familiar, curved blade. An iconic katana.

"SCATTER!" Firestorm screamed, and immediately the soldiers grabbed hold of themselves and of their comrades – all diving to the ground, behind boulders, and running in every direction. Firestorm tapped the pommel of his hammer into the ground twice, bringing up a field of gravitational distortion around the Fist of Hephaestos. He then took it in both hands and thrust it skywards at his quarry, pointing it as if it were a great staff.

Suddenly, a shockwave resounded around the area – and a blast of force slammed back the skyward foe. Atop Firestorm's mighty hammer there lay a crackling orb of translucent energy, so potent and so violating to normality that it almost seemed to not be there. It twisted and broke the very air, with the forces that kept the Planet in place completely void near the hammer's cudgel. Firestorm stood with new resolve, and once again pointed the Fist of Hephaestos at their black-clad quarry – and another blast shot from the hammer's tip and impacted again on the hooded figure, just as it recovered. The figure lost all control of its flight, and suddenly, the gravitational distortion kicked in – gravity accelerated, forcing the figure down and blasting him through a steadfast boulder.

Firestorm prepared to tap his hammer into the soil again and crush the figure in the grinding rocks, but a black-gloved hand beckoned him back. Looking, he saw Sephiroth, who had landed in complete silence.

"Back. Hold it until we know who it is." And, with that, the One-Winged Angel began walking forward. Firestorm adjusted the gravity around the smashed boulder, levitating the remnants of the rock and the crashed figure inside it, into the air. Sephiroth strode forward and tore the black hood off the person, revealing none other than the dark-haired, solemn features of Maelstrom.

"I am not surprised." He said, grimly. Firestorm, on the other hand, was devastated. His naivety had prevented him from seeing what was so obvious. He had let his feelings get in the way. He was furious – at himself, and at the brother before him. "Kill him, Firestorm. Let him speak, and he will try to corrupt you." Sephiroth advised. "Kill him, and let's go home."

Firestorm clenched his teeth and glared, in the utmost rage, at his brother. He did not hesitate – he gripped his hammer tightly, and willed the gravity surrounding his condemned brother to close in and whirl, and let the rocks grind and destroy his body. Just as the crackling force began to draw in on the traitorous SOLDIER, they caught sight of something strange.

Light filtered in through the rock.

The two allied SOLDIERs stared in shock as the rocks which threatened to kill Maelstrom simply disappeared, vaporised with edges of light. Then, the two darted apart as an enormous blast of pure white ravaged the ground between them, kicking up the rocks and the dust and carving a deep hole through the earth. It was ruinously hot, and the stifling air smelled of destruction and boiling earth. Sephiroth wasted no time as he leapt to his feet and drew his enormously long katana. The blade sliced through light itself as it cut a swath through the three extra blasts of blinding light that flashed towards them.

A ray of light touched the ground below, and amidst its sublime beauty a figure descended – of grandeur, elegance, and sheer potency. Undoubtedly female, wearing clothes that would betray any image of delicacy or fragility that her control over light would suggest. Above her jeans lay a simple, green zip-up singlet – topped by the beige vest that buttoned over her stomach. Below her neck you could see the protruding leather of two criss-crossing brown belts, and the symmetrical pauldrons that dignified only the shoulder of First-Class SOLDIERs. Her long, blood-red hair rose divinely in the glowing brilliance, and the three buckles of armour that ran down her left arm bloomed radiantly in the soft aura of sublime luminance.

"Let my brother go." Spoke this apparition.

Sephiroth immediately sprung into action, leaping up, dragging his blade upwards beneath him in a peerless dash that moved too fast for any eye not mako-enhanced to see. A loud clang was heard, and Sephiroth's usual smirk or grimace of determination had turned to a blistering, furrowed frown of displeasure. Masamune had been blocked clean, it's ascension stopped dead in its tracks by a pair of brilliant gold-and-silver swords, identical to one another, but barely the length of a standard-issue SOLDIER sword. They had prominently thick defensive handling and hilt guards, and at the end of the blades the tips were forged out-and-up in a viciously sharp triangle. Brilliant crystals shone, her own light filtering through them, at the base of the blades and pommels. With a heave and a vastly-tomboyish grunt, she forced the Masamune back down, quickly following by lifting one of her blades and trying to bring it down on her adversary's back. Sephiroth disengaged and fell.

But the silver haired SOLDIER barely had time to land atop a boulder, glancing up to see the girl already above him, swords raised. A quick blind dash to the right saw his life saved but the boulder reaped into three segments by the surgical slices of the twin swords. Firestorm, with a nimble leap, was at his side. "She took me off guard. She's fast." The One-Winged Angel wheezed in-between rushed breaths. At the noise of cracking rock the two turned their heads and beheld a razor-sharp hurricane, tearing apart several large rocks. A moment more and the hurricane dissipated, revealing Maelstrom as its centre and source – Cleave of Boreas in one hand and katana in the other - hovering, furious, ready.

The two teams walked forward, facing their others in one-on-one operations. Hazel was the first to speak in this meeting that was the closest thing to civility the battle had yet seen.

"This your 'brother', Maelstrom?" She asked, not even raising her sword in the slightest.

"Yes, that's him." The black-and-green-clad SOLDIER replied.

"I'll fight Sephiroth. He's yours."

Suddenly, with the metallic bite of a sword from leather, Firestorm's larconius was at Hazel's throat, the lethally sharp tip almost cutting through the girl's neck from over half a metre away. "Don't you dare dismiss me!" He demanded, the blade singing as he whipped it down back to his side.

Sephiroth's smirk at this lingered after, even as Hazel turned her gaze back to Sephiroth. "I don't care how many armies you've destroyed, One-Winged Angel. We have joined this AVALANCHE group to bring down Shin-Ra and bring justice to the sick SOLDIER program which you so disgustingly parade around."

"To be honest, I don't care about any of what you've just said." He said nonchalantly. He then parted his legs and raised Masamune, both hands on it, to facing forward from his left shoulder. The legendary battle stance which had heralded death to so many. "But I'll certainly humour you in a fight, you little vagrant." Beside him, Firestorm had also taken up his stance – larconius forward with his hammer on shoulder for backup. "Think you can take on your own brother?" The silver-haired man asked.

"You bet." Firestorm replied, simply.

"Then let's go." Sephiroth announced, marking the start of the battle. Within an eyelid's blink, he had burst forward and delivered a series of swinging blows at Hazel – knocking her away and forcing her to retreat backwards.

Maelstrom was the first to strike of the youngers, cleaving a boulder in half and directing the stones at his brother with a gust of air. Firestorm dodged one half and collapsed the other with a mighty weighted swing from his hammer – following up by attempting to drive larconius into Maelstrom's head – an effort which Maelstrom sidestepped with little effort.

Firestorm, abandoning all weaponry, emptied both his hands and grabbed Maelstrom by the shoulders – and then smashed his head into the others'. The brown-haired traitor grunted in pain and stumbled backwards, and Firestorm completed this melee by grabbing Maelstrom's stomach and – with a great heave of effort – threw his opponent, shattering him through several large rocks in his devastatingly momentum-driven path – and skidded him across the cliff which kept at bay the raging waters below.

Hazel took flight, gaining lift off of light itself – but Sephiroth seemed capable of flight as if wings drove him upward. He followed her through the air, zigzagging between the blasts of light she fired towards him. His trenchcoat and hair billowed out in all directions as he dodged furiously, with each movement throwing a directed jab with his overly-long blade to keep the girl off-balance. She threw another blast and Sephiroth jolted upwards, letting the light fall beneath him and appearing nose-to-nose with his adversary. Raising and letting fall Masamune's full strength in a crushing blow, Hazel was sent flying backwards, all the way into the base behind her. An implosion of dust and debris flew out from openings on the building, marking she had crashed into the facility.

By the time Firestorm had sped his way to the ridge where Maelstrom had fallen, the brother was gone. Firestorm readied his weapons, glancing around for any sight of him. Suddenly, he was kicked off his feet and carried into the air, an enormous rush of wind and stones flew about him, twisting him around in a whirlwind. Just as he felt his body start to threaten tearing, he activated his hammer with all the strength he could muster. Gravity flowed around him, restoring normality within its field and righting his alignment to the ground. He caught glimpse of a black flash darting its way up the height of the tall cyclone, and the wall of wind tore apart as the figure of Maelstrom slashed into the gravity field with his naginata. The energy gave way and the field shattered, blasting apart the tower of wind and sending Firestorm crashing to the ground below.

Sephiroth did a spectacular forward flip into the room where he had seen Hazel get slammed into. He saw her, back against the wall, readying her two swords. Sephiroth held his blade in front of him, ready to defend or strike – but his eye caught something interesting.

Six blades adorned the wall before him. There were two pairs, and then two different swords. Their edges were unshaped, making them rectangular, as though the person who owned them could carve their shape to his or her liking. The main sword had a hollow middle, as though it flick open and closed with a complex mechanism. The other unique weapon was quite thick and had its handle built into the blade. The first pair looked like identical swords with black handles, and the last pair had two short and fat blades with a folding handle.

"Conjoinable Assemblage Weapons." Sephiroth muttered, gazing at the six unshaped blades before him. "You know, Shin-Ra made an attempt at utilizing these, unsuccessfully. The blades were too difficult to shape, difficult to wield, and extraordinarily heavy in their completed assemblages." Looking at the formation, he guessed that one blade was the centre, the thick blade the front, the black-handled swords at the back, and the shortswords attached on to the sides. "Not only that, but assemblages with three parts or more always took far too long to assemble."

"Well, that just proves how stupid you Shin-Ra dogs are." Hazel panted, catching her breath as she stood. "We use mako and synchronise the blade with the user's magical strength to auto-lock and unlock the blades. It's much less difficult and far less time-consuming." She pulled out her two swords from where they had become wedged in the wall with a considerable effort. Despite a few new scratches, the blades were still as deadly sharp and shone as brightly as before.

"Maybe you should take some notes..." She spat snidely, and collided together the two blunt edges of her swords. Hidden machines reached out for each other within the weapons and clicked together, even joining together the handles into what resulted – an incredible, gleaming golden broadsword, shorter but even wider than Angeal's mighty Buster Sword. She readied the blade in front of her and dashed. "...It'll be on the test!"

By now, Firestorm and Maelstrom had attached their long and heavy weapons to their backs, and were fighting brother against brother with their swords. Firestorm's short but devastatingly heavy larconius gave his blows all the strength of a colossus, however Maelstrom's longer and swifter katana gave him a considerable advantage at distances. The two, blades crossed in a flurry of sparks, threw each other back. It was then that Firestorm heard a horrible screaming in his earpiece. It was from his troopers!

"Comma... restorm! The prisoner... scaped! Hea... ualties! Need help!"

As his radio went dead, Firestorm's mind flashed back to the prisoner Sephiroth's squad had taken in the initial skirmish on the town. "Barret..." With a flash of realisation, Firestorm's mind clicked. "You lot... That's why Hazel appeared once before Sephiroth arrived here – so that I'd tell him, and he'd call for all three SOLDIERS to be in the battlefield. That would leave Barret able to make his move..."

"Absolutely correct. However, as always, your blind faith and unyielding naivety has led your cause to ruin." Maelstrom stepped forward. "Don't you see, brother? Shin-Ra is about to have its downfall assigned to it. We can be everywhere. Even in Midgar. Hazel is equipped with all of the technologies that have taken our creed thirty years of collecting pure mako and Materia to create. Following Sephiroth's defeat, your forces will be routed – and all of your company's forces will be driven into a fighting retreat."

Maelstrom turned, and looked out over the great cliff, illuminated with the perpetual twinkling beauty of the ocean that lay beyond. "The Planet is beyond beautiful. And these Shin-Ra dogs are destroying it all. Hazel taught me that, when we first arrived here. She taught me that this Planet is dying. Because of us. She told me that if we slay Shin-Ra's war machine and destroy its monstrous reactors, this Planet would need no use of arms! We could become like the Ancients – reign with no pain or problem! If we dismantle Shin-Ra and kill all of its dogs of war, then we can reclaim this world for the Lifestream and those that live under its care!"

Firestorm hesitated, lowering his blade. In that instant, Maelstrom grabbed his shoulders and shook him furiously, his eyes mad with passionate rage. "But it's not too late for you! But on, Fire. Come with us! It's not too late to wipe your soul and your blade clean! You have been my brother for all of our life. You have taught me what it means to be part of a family. You have fought, lived, breathed alongside me! Now, it's not too late to come with me! Join our sister, and help us fight for a world where we can live as a family in paradise!"

Firestorm thought for a few moments, his head lowered in contemplation, his mind furiously working to make his thoughts, feelings and ideals concur. He raised his arms slowly, his hands taking grip of Maelstrom's, wrapping his fingers around the larger brother's slender wrists. And the two were united for the last time.

Firestorm, in a wrenching single moment, tore his brother's hands from his shoulders, flinging them as far down as he could, then skipping back to regain his fighting stance. "I have felt the lack in our connection. Of our unison. While perfect symbiosis in battle, we have almost never connected in spirit. You are not my brother, and the demented Hazel not my sister. I now stand alone."

In a second, the two had their blades drawn, Larconius and Tempestas screeching through the air around them.

Electricity crackled.

The very forces of the Planet lifted, turned over and went loose.

The rules of every applicable scientific law failed, and the two subjects of humanity and science called to their aid the powers at their disposal to rise to the challenge of the other. Around Maelstrom spun a force of vile winds, air so sharp the cliff's edge gave way, sucking the torrents of water below into the whirlwind, lacing and filling the deadly winds into a towering whirlpool. Around Firestorm crackled a gravitational well of boulders so great that the churning heat and friction of the tumbling rocks yielded an inferno around the boy.

Firestorm and Maelstrom became who they were.

Hazel darted around Sephiroth. The winged SOLDIER was beginning to have trouble keeping up with the girl – not because he was tiring, but because her bizarre attack pattern left trails and imprints of blinding light in the air through which she moved. He could tell this wasn't intentional. No matter how powerful they well or how they mastered their art, no structurally stable being should be leaking the powers they sought to control. Sephiroth made a calculated uppercut of a slash, and caught a collar. He took and the chance and ran with it, launching forward with all his strength. He sought to pierce her vest into the wall, but after his initial launch he felt the weight of her torso leave his blade. He readjusted.

He saw a shocking sight. Hazel had separated her blades, unable to deal with the weight and force. She panted heavily, her face conflicting helplessness and endless frustration. She glared at Sephiroth, completely unable to comprehend why they fought in circles.

"I am the END OF DARKNESS!" She screamed. "I was BORN to kill you! You and the other SOLDIER abominations! The very evils that are killing our world, but given HUMAN FORM!" She paused for a moment to swallow and catch her breath, still struggling with her blades. "But WHY? Why won't you YIELD? Why can't my light pierce your darkness as it does ALL others?"

Sephiroth looked aside. He, too, had sustained some wear in their struggle. He hadn't taken a direct hit, but the girl certainly knew how to keep on his toes and strike at any gaps in his peerless swordsmanship. "You know who we are," he said. "We're the Shin-Ra dogs. The abominations, the creatures, the unnatural, the heroes." He stepped forward. "We are not necessarily dark. But we are certainly not light. We are some other form of illumination and some other form of darkness. We are not driven by anything, other than the will to exist. But, that is what defines us. What defines us is our desire to maintain existence. We move onward, afraid of death because we treasure it most. We fight our family, our friends, all because they either are a threat to our existence, or because they represent a cause that threatens the kind of existence we have. We are not part of Shin-Ra, part of AVALANCHE, part of any creed of life. We are part of our own, part of whatever entity that promises to add something new, something great, to our own existence. Perhaps that is what Maelstrom saw in you."

He continued, looking down at his Masamune. "But at the same time, we protect others' existence. We do so because those people send us their gratitude, and give us new leases on life to forget our unforgivable sins out here, on the battlefield. Do now you see? We are darkness because we protect others. We are not light because we kill and betray. We are not good nor evil, light nor dark." He readied his katana, prepared. "We simply exist."

Hazel caught her breath, and readied her swords – suppressing the volatile light energy that had been leaking from her for a while. "Then my purpose is to continue fighting until you exist no more."

An inexplicably powerful ball of fire collided with a peerless tower of slicing water, smoke and steam gushing in equal measure from wherever the two arch nemesis elements met. Out from the maelstrom, a familiar green katana lashed its way through the swirling torrents. From the enormous spinning flames launched a red-hot curved shortsword. The two blades collided, biting into the other with all the strength of the owners and elements behind them. Their clash deepened, both blades showing signs of intense wear. The temperatures of both blades crept onto the other...

Both blades shattered in a display of blazing-hot and icy-cold fragments, the opposing extremes of which had shattered each other. The two blades, containing so much power, created such force from the explosion that Firestorm's and Maelstrom's vortexes of power erupted into disarray, sending both SOLDIERS falling into the ground. Both directed their fall downwards, channelling all of their own energy and the energy of their respective storms into the two objects that lay below – a hammer, the Fist of Hephaestos – and a naginata, the Cleave of Boreas. Maelstrom landed gracefully. Firestorm hit the ground, **hard**.

He landed in a puddle, already drenched and yet steaming with the heats exuding from his body. He rose, placing all of his strength and support into his war hammer. He looked up at his once-brother, already standing with his curved spear ready. He dashed forward, fury on his face – and as both readied their hits, time seemed to slow down.

It burst into action as both SOLDIERS entered a merciless melee of attack and defence, both placing pre-determined hits and blocks of the other. They knew each other too well. They existed symbiotically. Maelstrom dug Boreas into the ground and vaulted himself to it, delivering a heavy kick to Firestorm's face. He followed with a quick strike from the naginata's pommel, and finally a lethal slash that tore the skin across Firestorm's chest and sent him crashing backwards into the hazy field of rocks.

As quickly as he had been knocked back, he rebounded, vengeance in his eyes. He shot towards Maelstrom and swung Hephaestos into him three times, dust and mist still trailing from the enormous cudgel. The first struck his stomach, doubling him over. The second smashed into his chest, shooting Maelstrom's head and neck back with the sheer power. The third and most deadly struck right home on Maelstrom's face – delivering a sickening crack and sending the black-clad air bender pirouetting into the ground.

The Cleave of Boreas' blade dug into the dirt, and supported the weary weight that was Maelstrom. He faltered, losing the footing in his right leg for an instant, but long enough of Firestorm to be upon him, delivering a stabbing uppercut with his hammer that Maelstrom only avoided by almost collapsing himself completely. He somersaulted and kicked upwards, digging his feet into Firestorm's stomach – then completed the reversal by kicking him backwards, into a damp, clammy set of rocks.

Maelstrom launched from his crouch straight into another attack – but Firestorm had also leapt from his position to meet it. Hammer clashed with naginata as the two incredible weapons met with all the devastation of their elements behinds them. The two SOLDIERS wielding them even craned their necks and bodies forward as far as they could toward each other – both desperate to break the iron-locked stalemate.

The two twisted and pulled out, then delivered a quick dash at each other – only to meet weapons – and retreated again. They again met head-on, but this time, during the clash Maelstrom lashed out with his own skull, ramming Firestorm's head with his own. The boy was immediately disoriented, and Maelstrom followed with a crashing punch to his neck and, in a perfectly lifted leap, delivered a terrible heel kick to the other boy's diaphragm. The boy skidded further towards the cliff face, now trailing blood from his still-wounded chest and leaking mouth. Firestorm could see stars, and his tastebuds were filled with the metallic tang of iron and blood.

An enormous wave crashed against the cliff face, the rising waters framing Firestorm's silhouette, barely struggling to its feet. Across from him, Maelstrom had taken his position. His body glowed an aquatic-blue-green, with flames and energy dancing off and around his body. He summoned every last ounce of strength he had, every drop of energy – and every single feeling he felt in his willpower. In that instant, he felt new life rush into his body in the form of one, last, devastating attack. He raised the Cleave of Boreas.

Water and wind exploded from Maelstrom's body, rising with the aquatic-coloured flames up with the length of the blade. There, they combined into what was simply a green ball of pure, deadly energy that had the shocking impact of raging water with the slicing lethality of unleashed wind, all compressed within the power that surged through his body and blade. It was Limit Break – Boras' Last Howl. As Firestorm struggled to his feet, barely alive, Maelstrom calmly channelled all his strength and resolve into his naginata – and pointed its tip toward his adversary. Maelstrom roared in rage, and launched the attack at his dear brother.

Firestorm saw the attack coming. He could feel the gravity shield he'd summoned in his defence already start to crumble and strain under the incoming power of the attack. He saw it, just a metre from it – and then it exploded, in a moment that dragged on infinitely. The flames broke, releasing everything beneath. The water kept its shape for a moment – a perfect ball of pure liquid, concentrated and undisturbed by even the tiniest ripple. Then, the wind also compressed by the flames broke loose. More blades of air than Firestorm could count erupted from the sphere and sliced the water into portions finer than any precision cut by metal or by technology. In a last finale, the beautiful elements joined, air blades being trailed by liquid and globules of water made deadly by the spinning wind. In each drop of water he could see a reflected moment of his life, and through each drop he could see the one responsible for each and every moment – even this one.

"_Maelstrom..."_ he thought, as the destructive force of water and wind lashed into his body.

Sephiroth and Hazel clashed again, their blades finding no advantage over the other's. Sephiroth was quicker to react and retract, directing Masamune for a haymaker-slash at the same time as enflaming his hand with purple fire and attempting to blast it into her. She blocked the Masamune swing, but the dark flame served its purpose – blasting her second blade of light a ways across the room. She saw danger and quickly attempted to dash away to retrieve it. She did so with such haste and urgency that her back was absolutely exposed. Sephiroth grinned, and brought down the cold steel upon her back.

Hazel screamed with such a shriek that the area around seemed to pulse. It was a stomach-wrenching sound, blood curdling as she was impaled by Sephiroth's Masamune. At last, the girl lapsed, resigning her body to the katana."...No..." the girl groaned, the long steel blade brought through her back and penetrating out of her stomach. "No, why, why, why..."

Sephiroth pulled Masamune out, letting her collapse limply with a pained yell. Sephiroth began summoning all of his energy. "You asked why your light couldn't penetrate my darkness. The truth is, I do not know why." He stated simply, his silver bangs beginning to flutter and flow as the ground trembled at the sheer power he was summoning. "But, let me show you the sheer power of this darkness that you could not defeat. Darkness that swallows stars, planets, and lives alike." He drew Masamune in close, concentrating completely, remembering symbols and formulae, physics, elements, quantum mechanics – and employing them all. He slashed with Masamune, and tore the facility in two.

The building began to sink beneath them – however, every crushing part and every loose object began to gravitate towards the mountain wall the base was built into. Sephiroth tapped off the ground and watched, bemused – Masamune held backhand – as the mountain itself was swallowed by the majestic flames of a miniature sun. The blaze was larger than the mountain itself – and completely engulfed everything it touched. Its gravity was expanding, and soon boulders from the battlefield were flying into it also. Hazel looked up, in the utmost fear, at the monstrosity of a burning star before them. Suddenly, it stopped churning around. Its gravity well stopped expanding, and the flames immediately burned into a deep red hue.

"It's going to implode..." Hazel whispered, consumed by fear. "A supernova..." She suddenly snapped around, facing the airborne Sephiroth, and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Please. Please! I'll do anything. ANYTHING!" She pleaded, her blades long fallen into the Super Nova.

Sephiroth pried her hands off his pauldrons, and flipped Masamune around to face forehand. "Exist no more." He said, and swung. The girl was sent rocketing into the miniature sun – and when she hit, it imploded. The sun blazed outwards, silently dissipated and yet released all of the force it had attained. A fast, blazing wind passed over the now-abandoned battleground. Sephiroth watched a moment longer, now observing the enormous gap in the earth that the sun had occupied – a great chunk carved out of the expansive cliff, the base no longer existing, and the ocean below sweeping in to claim the sunken crater beneath. Sephiroth stood solemn for a moment, and then remembered.

"Firestorm!"

A single flash. All it was. Then back to the foul brown of blank vision mixed with blood. A single flash of vision, and then it dissipated again. He fumbled around, blind, saturated with water and blood. He crawled on his hands, lying down, unable to feel his legs. He could hear distant talk from Maelstrom.

"Did you hear me, brother? Try and get up. Do you see? That is the power the planet has given me, and see what happens when you turn against it!"

Firestorm could feel that he was barely alive. He slipped in and out of consciousness even as reached for whatever he could. He couldn't move anything, he could barely think. The world flashed around him, distorted light, distorted time, speeding up, winding down... And yet he could feel each trickle of blood, each drop sliding down his hyper-sensitive skin. He felt as if he hadn't had enough sleep, or needed very badly to sleep, and his skin suffered as such.

"See, Fire? You weren't strong enough to save them. You weren't strong enough to save your troopers. Or your precious little company. Not even Sephiroth, whom I just witnessed engulfed in Hazel's ultimate attack!" He dropped his arms, and waltzed over to Firestorm, naginata still clenched tightly in hand. "But you wouldn't know her power. You wouldn't know what she's capable of, unless you'd joined her like I did."

Firestorm's wayward left hand flailed onto a familiar pole of unstoppable iron. He clenched it tightly. He felt a strange power surging through him.

"Do you see?" Maelstrom demanded, not noticing – through the blood- the tiny red sparks that began crisscrossing Firestorm's body. "You couldn't save anyone! Not your family! Not your friends! Not even yourself! Face it, Fire! Aside from me, you never had ANYONE who cared about you!"

And then, a far-off voice: "Firestorm!"

The boy took the moment. In a blitz of strength, he heaved his body up from the moist gravel, bringing the hammer up with him. Maelstrom watched on in horror as, in a vortex of flame, rock and gravitational energy, Firestorm – a bleeding would-be corpse less than a second ago – now stood before them cleansed on blood, burning bright and strong, risen from the ashes of the grave like an immortal Phoenix. He flowed all of the power into his hammer, and prepared, glowing with blood-red flame – for his finality, Hephaestos' Final Strike.

He brought the hammer high above his head, and in a moment of unbelievable power, brought it down.

In an instant the earth was displaced, and Maelstrom felt the rock plateau split in two, the ground simultaneously sinking and rising constantly. Magma burst from the ever-growing cracks in the rock, and the gravity fluctuation that commanded this apocalypse brought the magma and the crushing, grinding rocks high into the air. Electricity, fire and stone became one, existing alongside each other in this attack that broke and hallowed the ground beneath.

Through all this, Maelstrom began walking. He began a slow, painful march. Each step took him an age, but he walked – slowly but surely – towards Firestorm. With each step Maelstrom took, Firestorm extended his energy even further, simply aggravating and urging on harder the blazing inferno that surrounded them. Each step, more power. It was Firestorm and Maelstrom, their bodies and minds synchronised, working in rhythm, working together for one last time.

At last, Maelstrom came within a moment of Firestorm. The blow that the hammer had struck in the Earth was engulfed in gravity – so much so that Firestorm was completely unable to move. Even as the blazing earth stung and burned their faces, and the gravity slowed their movement, the two brothers cried together in the moment, their heads touching, and voices screaming into each other. Maelstrom lifted his naginata and unleashed what very little strength he had left into one, final thrust of the curved lance.

The gravity dissipated. The lava cooled instantly. The rocks floated softly to the ground in the still gravity-lightened air. As the instruments of Firestorm's last gasp fell around them, Firestorm gave his last gasp as Maelstrom pulled his naginata out.

"Goodbye..." Maelstrom said. He had heard Sephiroth. He had known the Super Nova was not Hazel's. He had just needed a reason. Something left to hold on to that hadn't already been betrayed and destroyed. Someone who was family.

He turned around to face the One-Winged Angel, and glared at Sephiroth. "How dare y-"

Maelstrom's side split open, blood flowing freely out of his stomach. Maelstrom was able to let out a few choked gasps before falling, face-first, in the dirt. The Cleave of Boreas lay beside him, sliced in two – the blade dissipated into blades of air, leaving the body of Maelstrom all alone. Sephiroth now stood behind where the body of the traitor had fallen, sword poised post-strike, a single line of blood running down the blade.

Sephiroth knelt down beside Firestorm, and observed the boy as he began to shine with the luminescent green glow of the Lifestream. He coughed a little. "I see everything... Every great moment I've ever spent alive. Why, Sephiroth...? Why is it that now, after all this, all I can think about is... him?"

Sephiroth placed his two fingers over the boys' eyes, allowing them to close – saving them the torture of remaining open any longer. Tears dropped from his eyes, before evaporating as memories into the Lifestream as they touched the ground. "It was because... No matter what he said, what he did... He was, has, and always will be... your family."

Firestorm's legs were now completely gone, and the pommel of his hammer - that he still grasped - also began to return to the Planet. The effect spread rapidly up his body, claiming his life, being and memories to return to all those who gave life. The boy was in bliss, but he managed one last set of words in this painful world:

"Don't let your family go, Sephiroth. Always treasure them..."

Sephiroth thought of the words even as the boy returned completely, and the green sparks of mako flew freely into the air, going back to where all belonged – in the ever-cleansing Lifestream.

_Two days later..._

It had been a long helicopter ride home for Sephiroth. Midgar had never seemed so far away, after all that had happened in just two short days. He had already completed his report. Complete rout of the enemy forces. All AVALANCHE facilities and resources destroyed completely. Twenty-four Shin-Ra troops lost [names attached]. Detainee 'Barret Wallace' escaped, still at large.

And then he had come to the section on SOLDIER operatives. He had written every occurrence of the drama surrounding the four present, but it just left Sephiroth with an even despising of science and its no-emotions approach. The harsh, cold language of the report did nothing to capture any of the spirit, the resolve, the passion about what the other three did. Shin-Ra would make it turn out like a report. Relief would flood Midgar at the report of the criminal from years ago. Firestorm would be heralded as a posthumous hero. Revilement of Maelstrom would spread throughout Shin-Ra as a demon and a traitor. This was how science made things work.

And yet, Sephiroth didn't feel any of what science had to offer. He accepted everything about these people, not just what came of it. Their motives, their feelings – the happiness, sadness, longing, fury, betrayal, love – He remembered the question Hazel had posed to him about light and darkness, and what a SOLDIER was. Now, from seeing those two brothers, in their final, dying moments of love, he now had an answer.

To feel. That's what it meant to be a SOLDIER of Shin-Ra.

-SOLDIERS of Shin-Ra-

-Fin-

A lone set of footprints had made their way through the marsh of the Midgar Swamp – ever aware of the dangers within it. A travelling merchant from an antique land travelled here, searching the innumerable wrecks of carriages, cargoes and transport from all different eras and places, that tried to escort their wares through here. He made his way to a clearing in the yellow muck surrounded by high plants and disgusting foliage.

There, landed perfectly, were six blades sticking out of a large boulder in the earth. They had rather complex locks and mechanisms, and they all looked to be part of a complete set that a wielder could shape with their own designs in mind. The merchant rubbed his hands together and whistled his Chocobo-drawn wares carriage over. For his price, these swords could make a difference to someone – no matter what kind of regular old guy it might be.


End file.
